Page 3 of Scorched Hearts

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Page 3 of Scorched Hearts

Elle gently stroked her thigh, causing Mimi to shiver.

“I hope you don’t mind?” Elle much preferred away fixtures. That way she could leave when she was done.

The drive passed in relative silence, as it turned out Mimi lived very close by. Elle parked perfectly close to the curb, then unfastened Mimi’s belt.

“Here we are. It’s a nice building.” She nodded.

Mimi smiled in response, waiting for Elle to get out. But Elle had promised herself something back in the bar. She wouldn’t go through another meaningless night again, a kind of hedonism she wasn’t sure even counted as hedonism, since it brought her no actual pleasure. These evenings with random women had become a painkiller she’d grown used to, and after a while, the habit had become ingrained in her even as the premise of relief had long ceased to deliver.

“Goodnight. It was pleasant to meet you, Mimi.” She threw her another charming smile.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you coming inside?” Mimi clutched her purse, confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no.” Elle shook her head. “You’re wonderful, trust me. I just don’t think I’m up to it tonight. I don’t want to wake up in the morning and be just another body who’s passed through your bed.” Mimi raised an eyebrow, so Elle quickly added, “Or you mine, for that matter. Or you mine.”

“Okay.” Mimi opened the car door. “But you were the one who asked for my number.”

The she slammed the door. Elle’s forehead met the steering wheel as her mind fought off waves of regret.

Nothing would be different this time, she kept repeating to herself. Nothing at all. She drove away from Mimi’s house never to return again.

2

MAYA

“Sylvia?” No response. Dr. Maya Monroe’s knocking grew louder. “Sylvia, please it’s me!”

She dropped to the floor, exhausted. Her disheveled bag lay in the middle of the corridor, turned upside down in search of her keys to no avail. Her digital wrist watch displayed 02:34 a.m. like a mischievous ghost, taunting Maya. She banged on the door again, and with every dull sound, she grew even more painfully aware of her trespass.

Miraculously, the door creaked open, and Sylvia’s tangle of hair peered out.

“I don’t want to be a bitch, but aren’t you getting too old to be doing this?” She yawned, watching Maya scramble to collect her bag’s contents.

“You know how it works at the hospital,” Maya whispered, running to get inside the flat.

Sylvia locked the door and went into the kitchen. “I’m making tea. Do you want some?”

“You’re an angel.” Maya sighed. “I’m so sorry. Once I move out, you’ll finally have some peace.”

“Yeah.” Sylvia’s voice reached her through the sound of boiling water. “You’d think out of the two of us, I’d be the one asking to be let in at 3 a.m.”

Maya giggled to herself, massaging her temples. The dull, pounding pain pulsed through her body. She dreamed of nothing more than a hot bath and clean bed sheets, but her bones felt stuck to the dining room chair.

“How are your finals going?” Maya asked, wanting to remedy her disastrous interruption.

“You know, you sound like my mother.” Sylvia came in with two steaming cups of green tea.

She was a law student from Germany, almost ten years younger than Maya. At night, thrown out of deep sleep, Sylvia’s accent would grow stronger, adding a foreign lilt to her words.

“Sorry.” Maya took a sip of the tea, burning her tongue and hissing like a cat from pain.

They sat at the dining table in the light of the moon, amidst elongated shadows and blue hues. Maya finished her tea and got up to take the cups back to the kitchen. Her joints wildly protested in pain, making cracking sounds on the way.

“You move as if you’re fifty.” Sylvia yawned.

“Go back to sleep,” Maya shouted from the kitchen. “I don’t want you failing exams because of me.”

“Whatever you say.” Sylvia trotted-off to her bedroom.




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